The fertile land on Albany’s riverbanks was cultivated by Native
peoples long before the arrival of Europeans. Early Dutch explorers and
fur traders were quick to take note of the land’s potential as a
strategic location for commerce. In 1614, Hendrick Christensen established
the first trading post in New York State near the present-day location
of the Port of Albany. Ten years later, under the direction of the Dutch
West India Company, the permanent settlement of Fort Orange was built
in 1624. The location of State Street, and subsequently the positioning
of downtown Albany itself, came about as a result of Peter Stuyvesant’s
order that no house be built within cannon range of the fort.
Since that time, Albany’s waterfront and the usage of State Street
have been in a state of continuous change, with each evolution responding
to the particular needs of its time. The primary emphasis along State
Street in the early colonial period, under British rule, was military.
In addition to Fort Frederick at the top of hill, encampments housing
thousands of soldiers were located on the banks of the Hudson. Numerous
shipyards were also developed to meet the demands of the burgeoning
colonial empire.
By the end of the eighteenth century, the fledgling government of the
United States turned its attention to commerce and growth. In the early
to mid-nineteenth century, the construction of the Erie Canal, coupled
with easy access for sailing vessels, steamboats, and barges via the Hudson
River, placed Albany at the crossroads of the nation’s westward
expansion. To meet the demands of an ever-growing economy, a series of
wharves was built across the natural river basin at the foot of State
Street, creating a massive harbor facility of nearly a mile in length.
Hundreds of thousands of tons of cargo passed through the portals of the
Albany Basin.
By the 1860s, trade goods of all descriptions were making their way across
the bridge at State Street landing into a city that was experiencing one
of its greatest periods of prosperity.
The twentieth century brought with it major changes in transportation
technology. Railroads and highways soon usurped the Hudson River’s
role as New York State’s main thoroughfare. It was during this period
of transition that State Street became disconnected from its origins;
disinterest and neglect coincided with the construction of headquarters
for the Delaware and Hudson Railroad. The beauty of this Gothic Revival
structure belies its primary function: to screen off the river from State
Street. By the end of the century, subsequent highway construction had
all but obliterated downtown Albany’s connection with its maritime
roots.
In recent years, more attention has been paid to Albany’s grand
history. With this increased awareness, new ideas are emerging that address
the indiscretions of the past. It is hoped that education and understanding
will ultimately lead to appreciation—so richly deserved— of
a great city, a great thoroughfare, and a great river.

L.F. Tantillo
2002

Planning State Street

The original State (or 'Joncker') Street led up the sandy river bluff
from Market Street (Broadway) to the western edge of the stockade. Just
beyond, the hillside leveled somewhat and there, in the public space just
west of modern Eagle Street, the civic focus of both city and state were
to take shape as Capitol Hill. The impulse upward and westward along this
short axis symbolizes the colonial transition from the Dutch east (the
river, Fort Orange, and the Dutch church), to the English west (the new
fort and St. Peters). When the Dongan Charter of 1686 formalized the city's
status under the new regime, among the many rights and privileges it granted
the city was 'the power, license and authority' to 'establish, appoint,
order, and direct the establishing, making, laying-out, ordering, amending,
and repairing of all streets, lanes, highways ...'

This could be read as a mandate for ambitious plans, but it was not really
so. The Dongan Charter was merely confirming the immemorial privileges
that urban corporations possessed to regulate and improve almost all aspects
of urban life and urban form, with the public good in mind. From various
regulations and initiatives of the Common Council we can read some of
their concerns. Precautions against fire were the highest priority of
all. Thus 'fyre-masters' (chimney inspectors) were empowered in 1706.
During the century of British rule, State Street continued to develop
in its slow, muddy way, taking shape as an ever more impressive civic
axis and attracting the residences of Schuylers, Livingstons, and others
of Albany's elite. By 1749 Peter Kalm could note 'the street which
goes between the two churches is five times broader than the others, and
serves as a market place.' Actually at this time the central line of State
Street was impeded by the Dutch Church, St. Peters, and the Fort.

After the Revolutionary War, though, the Dongan mandate came to life.
Albany was caught up with a vengeance in the 'laying-out' of streets,
as it outgrew the old stockades. These efforts took their cue from English
Baroque practices. Regular street grids were laid out to be filled in
by speculative housing. The rather cramped grid of the Pastures was the
first development, taking its alignment from South Ferry Street (1789).
In 1794 Simeon DeWitt dusted off and expanded a much larger plan dating
from about 1764, renamed the streets after birds and animals (rather than
European grandees) and gave the city an ambitious blueprint for its westward
growth.

The DeWitt grid extended west from Eagle Street. It was centered on State
Street, from which it took its east/west alignment almost exactly. In
this way the DeWitt plan confirmed the importance of State Street and
provided it with a westward extension (first known as Deer Street). Further
widening of State ensued as the embankments of the old fort were dug up.
The importance of the public square at its western end was reinforced
when Albany became the capital of New York State in 1797.

Having set the alignment for Albany's westward expansion, State
Street continued to develop incrementally, by steady improvement and regulation
rather than by large planning gestures. For example in 1793 pedestrians'
lives were made a little drier as Dutch-style projecting gutters were
banned. During his long term as city surveyor, Philip Hooker was concerned
with grading, draining, and paving Albany's notorious ravines,
and much of this work, too, took its levels and alignment from the axis
of State Street, which the Common Council ordered to be paved (in 1792,
and again in 1804 and 1828). The fort and two churches were cleared from
the median, giving it the character of a grand boulevard with plenty of
'parking' for wagons and commercial activity along the center. Later this
generous width was occupied by the rails of horse-cars and electric-trolleys.

It was at the beginning of the 20th century, when urban planning in its
modern sense was taking shape, that perhaps the most significant intervention
in State Street occurred. The newly installed Republican boss of the city,
William Barnes, was concernedólike later officialsóto improve
Albany's riverfront, which was a tangle of railroad connections and run-down
buildings. The distinguished local architect Marcus Reynolds was a friend
of Barnes. They developed a plan for the riverfront at the foot of State
Street Hill involving a plaza, a bridge across the tracks, and various
waterfront improvements. The crucial piece the D & H building was
missing from the concept, and the plan was opposed by local commercial
leaders and prominent state politicians. Thus (as noted elsewhere in this
exhibit) Arnold Brunner and Charles Lay were commissioned to produce the
first comprehensive planning report on the city (1914).

Brunner recognized a fine civic axis when he saw it and he wrote of State
Street: '... after trying various schemes for parking in the middle
and at the sides, and making designs based on the motifs of other large
and famous streets, I have abandoned them all, feeling that it was essential
to preserve the character of the street as it is and simply improve it.'
He merely proposed wider sidewalks, more elm trees, and better electric
lighting. However at the crucial plaza site at the foot of State a meeting
of minds between Brunner, Barnes, and Reynolds gave us Marcus Reynolds'
D & H building (1914-18). In a magnificent Neo-Baroque gesture typical
of City Beautiful planning, this structure closes and shapes the downhill
vista, obscures the riverfront, and elaborates on Albany's history
in the symbolic language of Flemish Gothic.

The mid-twentieth century was a time of urban renewal, massive highway
development, and megaprojects. Albany as a whole was profoundly affected
by these trends, but State Street itself was relatively unscathed, except
for the development of the hotel-bank complex by old Elm Tree corner,
a development that obliterated significant portions of the historic street
plan. The Zeitgeist of planning has mercifully changed, and planning thought
now strongly values the historical depth, architectural variety, attractive
pedestrian ambience, and powerful civic symbolism that State Street so
richly expresses. The development plans laid out in Capitalize Albany
(1996) and more recent city plans aim to preserve and enhance these aspects
of 'the key civic street in Albany.'

Dr. John S. Pipkin
Professor of Geography and Planning
University at Albany